


A Day in Sickbay

by Vorta_Scholar



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Friendship, Humor, Medical Examination, Medical Procedures, Minor Injuries, Trektober 2020, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:28:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27295669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vorta_Scholar/pseuds/Vorta_Scholar
Summary: Julian Bashir wants to take a break for a moment and read some of the book Garak gave him, but every time he tries, someone comes in with a minor injury or ailment.
Relationships: Julian Bashir & Elim Garak, Julian Bashir & Ezri Dax, Julian Bashir & Keiko O'Brien, Julian Bashir & Miles O'Brien, Julian Bashir & Worf
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	A Day in Sickbay

**Author's Note:**

> For Trektober 2020, Day 30
> 
> Prompt: Injuries

Julian sighed heavily, settling into the chair at his desk and picking up the book Garak had loaned him a few days before. It was a slow morning in the infirmary, and he decided it was the perfect time for him to get a head start on this book.

But just as he opened it and flipped past the title page, he was interrupted by a low, pained groaning sort of noise. Looking up, he saw Miles walking in, wearing his usual kayaking uniform and holding his upper arm.

“Really, Chief,” he said, setting his book down and standing to meet him. “Again?”

“Yeah,” Miles said.

“You know, I don’t even know how you manage it,” Julian said, feeling Miles’s shoulder to confirm that it was, in fact, dislocated.

It was.

“Maybe you should come with me sometime,” Miles said.

“That’s more of a you-and-Odo thing,” Julian said.

He grabbed Miles’s arm firmly and thrust it back into place.

“Ow!” Miles cried. “I told you to warn me when you do that!”

“If I warn you, it’ll only be worse,” Julian said.

“I doubt that,” Miles said, rubbing his shoulder.

“Try to remember what I said,” Julian said. “And give that shoulder a break.”

Miles chuckled. “Break my shoulder. Got it.”

“Not what I meant,” Julian said, and he patted Miles on the shoulder as he made his way back to his chair.

“Ow!” Miles said again, shooting him a glare.

“I’ll see you this afternoon in Quark’s,” Julian said.

“Alright, see you,” Miles said as he turned and made his way back out the door. “Thanks for fixing my shoulder.”

“No problem,” Julian said.

Once Miles was gone, he flipped the book open again to the first page and began reading.

He only got a few lines in, however, before someone else came stumbling in through the door.

“Worf,” Julian said with a smile. “What can I do for you?”

“Doctor, I am,” Worf said, his eyes darting around anxiously, “in need of medical treatment.”

“Okay. Well, you’ve come to the right place,” Julian said, his brow furrowed in confusion. “What seems to be the issue?”

“Well, the prune juice usually helps, but it didn’t today,” Worf said. “My mother recommended apple juice. That also did not help. General Martok recommended Lady Sirella’s family remedy, made from freshly ground targ’s hooves, but as you know, we have no targs on the station.”

Julian looked at him for a moment, his expression blank as he processed what Worf was trying to tell him.

“Freshly ground targ’s hooves,” he murmured. “For...for constipation?”

“Well. Yes,” Worf said, his anxiety growing more evident by the second.

“Ah,” Julian nodded, stepping past him. “Alright. Let’s see.” He stepped over to the medical replicator and began searching through. “C...Cardiac...Cataracts… Oh, come on. C-O...Corinary… Nope. Went too far. Back one page…”

“Doctor,” Worf said.

“One moment, please,” Julian said, and continued his search. “Ah! There it is. Constipation treatments. Alright. Compatible with...Klingon.”

He pressed a button and the machine synthesized a small cup of some thick, pinkish-gray liquid, which he retrieved and passed to Worf.

“Here you are,” Julian said, smiling.

Worf sniffed it, and grimaced. It smelled disgusting, like it would make his stomach turn and have him vomiting instead of...well. He cleared his throat before downing the whole thing at once, trying to taste as little as possible.

“Oh,” he said, trying not to gag as he passed the cup back to Julian. “That was...that was horrible.”

“Coming from you, that makes me glad I’m not the one who had to drink it,” Julian said, eyes wide.

“Huh,” Worf said, nodding, looking somewhat scarred. “Uh, thank you, Doctor.”

“Of course,” Julian said. “Let me know if that doesn’t work and I’ll try to find something else.”

“Hopefully something that doesn’t taste quite so strong,” Worf said.

Julian chuckled. “I’ll try.”

Julian watched as Worf walked out of the infirmary, still somewhat dazed and confused from the apparently horrid taste he’d just experienced. Curiously, Julian lifted the cup and sniffed it, and immediately felt his gag reflex triggered. He threw the cup back into the replicator and pressed the button to send it away.

Before he even made it back to his seat, he was being hailed by yet another probable patient. Ezri came rushing in, holding her wrist. Her hand was bleeding.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Chess accident,” she said.

“Chess accident…?” he asked. “How did… Never mind.”

He handed her a hand towel from beside the sink and went to go get the dermal regenerator.

“Thanks,” she said, hissing in pain as she held the towel to her open wound.

He came back a moment later and she removed the towel, letting him take her by the wrist as he fixed up the gash in her palm.

“A chess accident?” he asked again.

“Uh-huh,” she said, nodding.

“How?”

“Bishops are pointy,” she said.

“Uh-huh…” He shut the machine off and let go of her wrist. “I don’t know how that might have happened, but try not to do it again, hm?”

“Of course,” she said. “Thanks.”

“Sure,” he said, smiling politely.

“I think I’ll ask Benjamin if we can do checkers instead,” she said.

“That sounds like a good idea.”

“Thanks again. Bye.”

“Bye,” he replied, and he hurried over to his seat to try to get at least another few lines read before someone else came in.

He’d hardly read two words, however, when he heard Keiko O’Brien’s voice.

“Julian, I’ve got a patient for you,” she said.

She was carrying Yoshi, who looked as though he had been crying and might start up again any second.

“Oh, well, let me see,” Julian said, pushing himself out of the chair and coming over to take a look.

“He bumped his head pretty hard on a table,” she said. “He seems okay, but I wanted to make sure.”

“Well,” Julian said, smiling at Yoshi. “Let’s see, huh?”

He retrieved a tricorder from the counter and used it to scan Yoshi’s head, making little airplane noises as he did, which made Yoshi laugh.

“Everything looks completely normal,” Julian confirmed. Turning to Yoshi, he said, “But maybe if you ask Mummy nicely, she’ll let you have a cookie, or some ice cream.”

Keiko raised an eyebrow at him.

“To make him feel better, of course,” Julian said. “That’s my professional medical advice.”

She laughed. “Hm. I don’t know…”

“Can I have cookie, Mommy, please?” Yoshi asked.

“Okay. You want an oatmeal raisin cookie?” she teased.

“No. Chockit cookie.”

“That’s the one I would recommend,” Julian said, trying and failing to put on a serious face.

She laughed. “Okay. Chocolate it is,” she said. “Thank you, Julian.”

“No problem whatsoever,” he said. “It’s always wonderful to see you both. And I’m glad there was nothing wrong.”

“Me, too,” she said, patting him on the arm. “I’ll see you later, Julian.”

“Alright. See you later,” he replied.

“Oh,” she said, turning back to face him before she left. “You are still coming to dinner Thursday, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Good.”

She smiled again, and made her way out, talking quietly with Yoshi about whether he should be allowed to have one cookie or two. Julian smiled, too, as he walked back over to his desk and plopped into the chair, letting out a heavy breath. He picked up his book again, and miraculously, he got almost a whole chapter in before he heard footsteps again. Anticipating a summons, he set his book down and stood to meet whoever it was in the main room of the infirmary.

“Garak?” he said. “What brings you here?”

“Well...” Garak said, holding up a hand bundled in a bloody bit of horrendously patterned fabric.

“Chess accident?” Julian asked before he even realized he’d thought it.

“Doctor?” Garak asked, confused.

“Uh, nothing,” Julian said, shaking his head. “Let me get the dermal regenerator.”

He walked over to the counter where he’d left it after Ezri’s incident and returned to Garak to begin patching him up.

“Have you read any of the book I gave you?” Garak asked in an attempt to make conversation rather than focus on his rapidly healing injury.

“Ha,” Julian laughed. “You wouldn’t  _ believe  _ the morning I’ve had.”


End file.
